by Kara Hart
“So you’re a lesbian now? Was he that bad? You fucked him like three times, right?” She snorts loudly and makes a gyrating motion with her hips.
“Shut up. We’ve fucked once, okay? And, it was incredible by the way. Completely earth shattering. Those are the only details I’m giving you,” I say. There’s a slight tinge of pride in my voice when I say earth shattering.
“So what the fuck’s the problem? He fucks good, treats you right, and he stands up for you. Sounds like the perfect man to me.” She jumps up from the grass and faces me.
“I just don’t need the extra drama right now. Elijah is totally up my ass at work and if he finds out I’m seeing some Navy guy, he’ll flip his shit. I just want peace and quiet, and maybe a little fun,” I say. I don’t think it’s an unreasonable request either. Colt is great. But my life is sort of extra right now.
“Suit yourself. I’m gonna get me a man. One of his friends. I’m going to settle down and be one of those Navy wives. You know, always going to barbeques, celebrating the 4th of July at the naval base. That shit is hot. Like, real hot.” She makes that gyrating motion with her hips again and falls on the grass laughing.
“You're absolutely insane,” I laugh. “I have to get to writing.” I walk inside as Julie sits knee deep in her fantasies. It’d be nice if she did find a good man because it wasn't looking very promising that she'd be paying rent anytime soon. A sugar daddy would mean all the world right about now. I love the girl, but it’s about time she got her shit together.
When I sit inside, cup of coffee next to me at all times, I stare at my laptop screen and the pen and paper I used to take notes during our interview. I have three things I can write about and it's more experiential if anything. Worst of all, there's not too many facts to back it up.
His incredible body, the way he thrust against me, and holds me close to him. I can't get it out of my head. But is all that fun, albeit passionate and totally crazy fun, worth hurting my career over?
The words shine back in my face like falling rockets in the sky: “War is hell.” I like Colt. Really, I do. But it frightens me to think he's internalized all of these things. He's so calm about these experiences. How can anyone who's been shot at be as calm as he is?
I write a rough draft and read it over and over again until my brain feels like it's fried. “Good enough,” I sigh, but I can see how much it’s lacking and I'll most likely have to get more information.
I look out the window and Julie’s gone. I peek out the front door and check the back. Nothing. No note. It's not unusual for her to leave. She's my sister, not a prisoner. She's an adult and can make her own choices. It's just that lately she's been jumping back into alcohol and spending time at The Cat’s Bag, rather than taking that sabbatical she promised me she would take.
Through no fault but my own, I haven't been the caretaker she needs. She needs a single and strong sister, not a wild man-obsessed woman. Not that I was obsessed.
He has been on my mind lately. I can't help it. He's different. He's kind, he's strong, and he actually reads. It seems too good to be true and most likely is. So I shake it off. I tell my emotions to back the hell down so I can be a functioning person again.
I close my laptop and call Julie. No answer, which isn't like her. I grab my keys and head to The Cat’s Bag. She's probably fine, but I figure I should be responsible enough to check. After all, it is my “day off.” Whatever that means.
When I get there, the bar is empty. It's so empty that there's a sign on the door that reads “Closed for Lunch.” The door, however, was oddly unlocked. “Come on, Julie. Get your shit together,” I whisper. There's no sign of foul play. Nothing out of the ordinary. Just a few empty glasses and some bottles that needed to be put away. As I start to walk outside, I notice something small that catches my eye in the back corner booth of the room. It's an ash tray and there's a half lit cigarette inside it. Smoke still floats upward in elaborate curls and the filter has my sister’s lipstick on it.
“God damn it,” I sigh and put out the cigarette. I lock up the bar and make sure it's secure before heading back home. She's fine, I reason with myself. She can handle herself. Though it's a selfish thought, I'm getting real tired of being a walking doormat for everyone in my life. Especially when my name is on the lease of the bar. My credit, my future, my everything is wrapped up in other people. It's time for a change.
I drive home, taking a sharp turn at the intersection in front of me. I pass by the park, the same one my dad used to take us to before leaving us high and dry, and sure enough, Julie is on the park bench, drunk as a skunk.
“Fuck!” I hit my steering wheel. I'm not as mad as I am scared. I'm scared for her well-being. It's starting to take its toll and not in a laughable way.
I quickly park the car and run into the sand. “Julie!” I yell. She’s lying down, barely even breathing. I frantically grab onto her and lift her up, so she’s at least sitting against the back of the bench. “Julie, can you see me? It’s Lena.”
She says nothing. Her eyes are closed shut. “Dammit, it’s your sister,” I say, lightly slapping her face. Anything to make her wake up. Suddenly, she opens her eyes and smiles.
“What the hell do you want?” she asks me. “Can’t you see I’m sleeping?”
“Come on. We have to get you home. You’re way too drunk,” I mutter, throwing her arm over my shoulder. I can barely get her past the bench. “Fuck!” I scream.
There’s no right way to do this. I need all the help I can get, so I pull out my phone and call the only person I know who can help. Colt. And it doesn’t take long for him to answer.
“What’s shakin’, pretty lady?” he asks.
“I need you,” I say, glancing at Julie. She’s now fast asleep again on the bench.
“Wow, already? You got some appetite, don’t you?” he laughs into the receiver.
“Colt, stop it. I’m serious this time. I need your help.” He can sense the urgency in my voice. It’s not like Julie’s dying, but she’s not well either. A second later and she’s puking all over the sidewalk below.
His tone changes. “What is it? I’ll be right there.”
“I’m at Longhill Park. Julie’s shitfaced out of her mind. I need help bringing her home,” I say. “I swear I was keeping an eye on her. I was doing everything I could to keep out of trouble. I turn around for one second and she’s—”
He cuts me off. “It’s alright. You don’t need to apologize to me. I’ll be there in five minutes.” He hangs up the phone and I run back to Julie, who’s now moaning loudly in pain. She must’ve drank a lot because I’ve never seen her like this before. She’s the kind of girl who can knock back five or six beers without feeling a thing. What the hell happened to her?
Colt rides up in his car and jumps out, leaving the engine running. “I brought some water. Most important thing right now is getting her hydrated. She’ll probably puke it all up, but it’s good to introduce it slowly. Once she’s more awake, I’ll give her some of this tomato juice too.”
We take off toward his house and I make sure Julie gets her fluids. “Tomato juice?” I reply, realizing what he just said.
“Yeah. It’s the best cure for dehydration. You drink a full can and get all the electrolytes you need for the day. It helps. Trust me, I lived off that shit in the desert. Well, whenever I could get it.” he smiles and turns the corner. Quickly, we’re driving through his long driveway into the woods.
He parks the car, opens my door, and lifts Julie into his arms. “There we go. Nice and easy. You’re doing great, darling.” She pukes right into his arms.
“Oh my God. Colt, I’m so sorry!” I run to the cabin and open the door. Somehow he’s calmly walking, although his whole shirt is soaked in her vomit. He just sets her down on the couch and laughs.
“Shit, I should’ve seen that one coming. No worries.” He lifts his shirt up over his head and wets a towel. I know I shouldn’t be turned on right now, but the small glim
pse of abs I get is enough to get my heart fluttering.
When he comes back into the room, he’s holding a trashcan. “Here. She can puke in this for the time being. She’ll probably be out for most of the day. If you have plans or work, I can take care of her. It’s no problem,” he says. The television inside is on and a few beer cans have been opened. On the screen is a football game and everyone’s cheering on some All-Star quarterback Liam or something. It seems like a big game. I can tell I’m ruining his relaxing day.
“You sure it’s okay that we’re here?” I ask, hesitatingly. “I don’t want to interrupt. I just—”
“It’s completely fine. I was getting really bored of this game anyway. I’m, uh, not much of a football fan, but it’s the only thing on right now,” he laughs. Thank God, I think to myself.
He’s wiping his shirtless body with a clean towel and his pecs glisten against the light. When he catches me staring, he laughs to himself and I quickly look away. “There’s juice or beer in the fridge if you want it.” He throws the towel in the other room and says, “Sorry I’m kind of a mess right now. I didn’t realize I’d have two beautiful women in my house to take care of.”
We both look at Julie and she’s smiling with her eyes half open. A big glob of drool is coming out of the side of her mouth. Of course, she’s puking again within seconds. “Well, you know what I mean.”
I laugh and rub my palm against my eyelids. “No, you’re fine. I wouldn’t have asked for help, but it’s been such a tough day. Ugh. Everything’s been kind of hard lately, actually.”
I walk over to his fridge and grab a beer, trying to ignore the punch marks all over it. I pop it open, hearing that familiar clicking noise echo off the tall ceiling. He says, “Probably because you met me. I’m kind of bad luck.”
I smile. “Stop fishing for compliments. You’re fine. You’ve helped me a lot and I’m thankful for that. I just don’t like feeling weak, you know?”
“We all can’t be strong every day,” he says, looking at me deeply. “Some days you have to lean on someone you trust.”
Trust. Do I trust Colt? Part of me does. Another part of me doesn’t trust any man I meet. He’s tried to be good to me, though. I don’t know why I’ve been so hesitant. Maybe it’s because of Elijah. Maybe it’s because I’m my sister’s caretaker. I always feel like I should be the one in charge of helping everyone out, but maybe it’s time I let go and let someone else take the wheel a bit.
“Yeah. I guess you’re right.” I set the can of beer on the table, right on top of a piece of notepaper. A wet ring forms around it. “Whoops,” I say to myself, but I can’t help but see the words written.
“I know about Afghanistan?” I say out loud. “What the hell does that mean, Colt?”
He shrugs and gives me a look of perplexity, mixed with a little bit of fear. “Some punks trying to mess with me, most likely.”
“What do you mean some punks? This is weird, Colt. Where did you find this?” I ask, glancing at Julie as she pukes again.
He stretches his arms and sighs. “I came home and my door was open. I thought it might be a break in, but nothing was taken or broken, so I figured I probably just left it open when I went outside. That’s when I found this note taped to my fridge. It’s gotta be some kids playing a prank on me, right?”
I know about Afghanistan.
“Colt, does Bowen know about this?” I ask him, feeling my heart start to beat against my sternum. This is totally freaking me out. Kids didn’t play pranks like this. At least not this deep in the woods.
“Nah. No use in worrying the man. If I tell him, the next thing I know, he’ll be telling his wife and she’ll flip out. She's a wonderful woman, but she's got kids to worry about. Anyway, I don't think this is that big a deal. I've thought it over and I'm just gonna leave it alone,” he says. But the way he’s looking at the note tells me it's not some small thing. Something happened over there and someone’s trying to find out.
“Well, please be careful.” I say, not recognizing my own voice. I sound like my mother or something. Julie starts cracking up, until she realizes she has to puke again. Gross.
“What? You starting to feel for me now or something? It isn’t like you to be so involved,” he laughs.
“You're a good friend, Colt. I just don't want to see anything bad happen to you.” I tense up after I say the word friend. The way he's looking down, I can tell he's pissed.
“Right. Well, I'm glad I have such a good friend, pal.” he says before jumping back in his chair. It's as if he's waiting for me to leave.
Of course, before there's any time to figure any of this out, Julie moans “Where … where’s Elijah?”
All eyes fall on her drunk face. “What did you just say?” I kneel against the couch and lift her face up in my hands. “Julie, what about Elijah? What are you talking about?”
She smiles to herself, looking at us cross-eyed. “He was with me, drinking. We were having a good time. Then he left. Poof. Just disappeared. He's not happy with you.” She points at Colt and laughs. “He's so cute. I don't get why you don't like him.”
Colt’s face flashes with anger. I lift my arms up. “I don't know what she's talking about. Honestly, I don't.” He simply shakes his head. God, this doesn't look good at all. Fucking Julie. This is the last straw.
“Can you just get out of here? I think I need to be alone for a while.” He isn't even looking at me. That word flashes in my mind again: trust. Well, all the trust he once had for me has flown right out the fucking window. I guess he had good reason to be mad. I just wish I had a chance to explain. This all was sounding crazy to me too.
“I can explain,” I say to him. “She's drunk. She doesn't know what she's talking about.”
“Are you talking to him again?” he asks me.
“No!” I yell. “Fuck no. Honestly.”
He’s not listening and I'm devastated. Things were starting to go so well for us. Now, he hates my guts. At least, it seems like he does. He simply gets up from his chair and walks away. Before he shuts the door to his room, he says “Fuck it. Feel free to stay as long as you want. You, Julie, and Elijah can have all the fun you want. I'm going to go to sleep. Talk to you later, good friend.” The malice in his voice is palpable and I have no choice but to fall. A weight plummets in my stomach.
“Come on, sis. Let's get out of here,” Julie slurs her words at me. She stands up and stumbles onto the floor. “We don't need him.” Her mouth is pressed against the floor.
Sure, we don't need him. We don't need anyone. We can just waste away in the house I pay for. Sure, Julie. Anything my sister wants, she gets.
But as I am dragging my sister out of his cabin, I see him open the door to his room. He gives me a look of deep longing, like he wants to say something but won't let himself. I put up my hand and wave goodbye. He walks back inside, shaking his head.
I can’t last like this. Not without him. Shit. There it is. The admission. I like Colt and it's becoming a serious problem.
105
Colt
Friends? Is she fucking kidding me? After everything? After I bail on my plans with Bowen to help her out? After I eat her senseless, we’re just friends? Fine. She can call it what she wants. It doesn't mean I'm going to stick around to hear it.
“I wouldn't worry about it, hon. She’ll come around sooner or later,” Bowen’s wife, Arianna, says. She sets down a plate of chips and we dig into our dinner.
“I don't give a damn,” I lie, dipping a chip into a big glob of salsa. “I'm just glad you all still invite me over to dinner.”
“Yeah, well. It's especially nice with the kids gone at summer camp, you know?” Bowen adds.
“Tell me about it,” Arianna laughs. “Before they left, the kids were bouncing off the walls. I thought I was going out of my head.” It suddenly gets very quiet and the sound of our forks hitting our plates resound throughout the kitchen.
Arianna lifts her head and I just know what she
's going to say. The words are practically written all over her face. “Spill it,” I say without even looking up.
“What? I've got nothing to spill,” she says, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible. Even Bowen knows that's not true.
“Come on, Arianna. I know you've got something to say. Say what you need to say,” I laugh and put down my fork. “I'm waiting.”
Her cheeks turn flush and she takes a deep breath. Then the words come spilling out “You need a woman!” She bows her head in embarrassment when Bowen gives her a sharp glance. “I mean, to take care of you and to have a family someday. Don't you want that?”
I make a grimace as I dig into my pork. “I think you guys are family enough,” I say. “Besides, it's not up to me. If you were to ask me if I wanted her back, I'd say of course I do. But you can't force a girl to come back to you. Shit, we weren't even technically together.”
Her expression turns wild as I say this and I can't help but smile at her intensity. “Oh, boy.” Bowen shakes his head and walks to the fridge to grab a few beers for everyone.
“No, I'm serious, honey!” She goes on “I love you, Colt. But you don't know anything about how women operate. She wants you to chase after her. She wants you to give her flowers, to take her to the movies, and to tell her she's beautiful even though she's gained ten pounds and is feeling self-conscious.” I glance at Bowen who just shrugs.
“She said we were friends. Ain't nothing worse than giving it your all, only to find out you're just their best friend. I'd rather be alone forever than get stuck with friend duty.” I eat my last bit of food and crack open my beer. “It's like I said. I can't force her into this.”
Arianna isn't giving up. She grabs our plates and walks to the kitchen. She's silent, but the way she's looking down with her lips pursed together, tells me she's about to lay it all on the table and say what's on her mind.
“Force her,” she blurts out. I nearly spit out my beer. Never in my life did I think I'd hear her say those words. Even Bowen looks surprised. “Baby, you can’t force a woman into being with you. Do you know how wrong that sounds?”